Colors of the Soul
by Crimson Eyed Dragon
Summary: It’s been three years since anyone has seen Yami and when the Kaibas’ find him, even Seto’s best efforts to heal this broken spirit may not be enough. Second story in the Colors series. ABANDONED See Profile
1. Chapter 1

Title: Colors of the Soul  
Author: Crimson Eyed Dragon  
Pairing: Mentions of Marik/Yami  
Rating: R (to be safe)  
Warnings: Language, mentions of rape  
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh

Summary: It's been three years since anyone has seen Yami and when the Kaibas' find him, even Seto's best efforts to heal this broken spirit may not be enough.

Status: 1/6

**Dragon: **A few important things. **First** – if you haven't read _Colors of the Mind_ I highly suggest that you do. If you don't, you will have no clue as to what is going on in this story and how Yami got to the state he is in. **Second** – there are NO active pairings in this story. I know, weird to see that from me huh? So no prideshipping people! Although, since I know the way my friends think….feel free to 'see' it as prideshipping if you want. **Third** – This is the second installment of the _Colors_ series. In order to keep this story as real and lifelike as possible…. nothing will be a quick fix. So expect two more stories in this series.

_Italics denotes flashbacks_

* * *

Gray eyes lazily looked over the endless white walls of the waiting area as Mokuba fought off another yawn that threatened to make itself known. Shifting his notebook from one hand to the other, he leaned against the wall, choosing to stand rather than sit as he waited for his assigned counselor to come and get him. He was a little nervous about starting this part of his college major, he wasn't quite sure he was going to be able to handle mentally ill patients. Unfortunately, it was one of the requirements of his business psychology course.

At the beginning of his nineteenth birthday, Mokuba had decided that he would like to take courses in the psychology part of the business world to better help him deal with his employees at Kaiba Corp. He knew that one day he would be taking it over, which didn't bother him, but he also knew that in today's world, stress was a big factor in how well your employees worked and performed and it would only get worse as the years and hardships of life progressed. So having some knowledge in the subject was sure to come in handy.

But that wasn't the reason he was standing in the sterile, white hallway of the New Beginnings Psychiatric Home located outside the busy city of San Francisco, California. No, coming to the States had been his own choice, one his older brother Seto had not been happy with.

Seto had been almost livid at the thought of him wanting to move to a whole other country when there was perfectly good universities for him to go to in Japan. But Mokuba wanted a chance to have some freedom, a chance to do things on his own, make choices on his own without his older brother's constant worry if he was making the right ones or not. And the only way to affectively do that was move thousands of miles away.

Plus his English had improved ten fold.

He smiled to himself. He didn't regret his move; on the contrary, he believed it was the best decision he had ever made. But he did miss his friends and his brother, not to mention the constant security that he would never be alone as long as he had his brother. That had been one thing that had worried him more than anything else. The likelihood that he wouldn't make friends here - would not have fit in since he was a foreigner - weighed heavily on his mind. But something kept telling him to come here and try to make it. It was almost as if there was a voice in the air calling him, pleading with him to make this trip.

So packing his bags, he headed off to California. And now at the age of twenty-one he was still here and loving every moment of it.

"Mr. Kaiba?"

Gray eyes shifted to look at the small woman that stood before him. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail; small tendrils of hair were lose and framing her face. Wearing black slacks and a deep purple blouse, she looked every bit of a professional at seemingly age of early thirties. Keeping eye contact with her soft looking chocolate ones, he held out his unoccupied hand in greeting.

"Yes, I'm Mokuba Kaiba."

Her smile was pleasant as she shook his hand. "My name is Dr. Hodge. I'll be the one to conduct your training while you are with us."

Nodding his head, Mokuba began to follow her down the hall. His observant eyes watched every patient, every worker, and every detail of the building as they passed by. That was something that stemmed from his brother – know your surroundings at all times. Everything was a potential target, a potential threat, and if you don't realize it, you could pay the price. A lesson he's never forgotten.

"My professor didn't tell me exactly what I would be doing."

"He didn't?" Dr. Hodge tilted her head to the side, brown eyes looking up at him. Even though he was a few inches shorter than Seto, he was still taller than most men his age. "Well then let me explain. Today, you will be sitting in on a group therapy session. You won't be required to do anything today other than just observe. After that, the next time you come, I'll put you in on some one-on-one sessions; get to know how things go around here. Then we'll see about letting you handle a session on your own, with me observing you."

Again he nodded his head. Seemed simple enough he guessed. Observing wasn't so bad. He could just sit back and look on as they talked about all their problems. Hell he had mental baggage of his own, so he shouldn't be totally clueless as to what others were going through.

Mokuba soon found himself entering a room that reminded him of a grade school classroom. Green industrial carpet, tacky multicolored plastic chairs all in a circle – few of them already filled with people – a few windows lined with green curtains, pulled back to allow the Californian sun to shine through. He followed her to the supposed 'head' of the circle and sat down in the seat she had pointed out for him.

Sitting down beside him, she crossed her legs and looked at him. "The others will be here shortly, in the mean time why don't I introduce you and tell you a bit about why they are here."

His eyes flicked to the five people before him, noting one four females and one male.

"Everyone here is suffering from PTSD, with or without depression."

"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Something happened to each of them and mentally they couldn't handle it. Julie," she pointed out a shy looking red head off to her right, "Was raped by her father…."

Mokuba listened intently as the woman gave brief life histories on the members of the group, making him inwardly shudder at some of the things he heard. And he suddenly was happy that what had happened to his brother - when they were in the care of Gozabura - had never affected him like this as he looked at their faces.

Emotions ranging from suspicious, fright, wariness, anger, guilt, and more shown clear as day and Mokuba had to wonder how some of them were able to function at all. And he was beginning to wonder if he, or anyone for that matter, would be able to help these people.

He silently watched as several more walked in and take their seats in the circle, trying his best to remember everything that Dr. Hodge was telling him.

"Ah, I see Yami finally decided to show up."

Mokuba's head snapped towards the door when he heard the name the doctor had said, eyes narrowing at the sight of a male older than him, wearing a gray long sleeved t-shirt and matching gray jogging pants despite the hot Californian temperature. His hands and neck were tanned, but his face was shadowed by long jet-black locks.

Yami. He shook his head. No there was no way that this was the same Yami he knew years ago. The once spirit of the puzzle that his brother had dueled against, the same on that had shattered Seto's heart, the same one that he, Mokuba, had made friends with – eventually calling him family. After all, this guy had long _straight _black hair and walked like he was nothing more than a slave instead of the righteous Pharaoh Mokuba knew.

But… last he had heard, Yami did live here in America, the same State that he was in now. But still…..

He watched with the utmost scrutiny as the male took his seat across the circle from him. He wanted so much to look into his face, but _this_ Yami kept his head down, black hair falling around him, shrouding his features.

Just hearing that name brought back unwanted memories. How long had it been since he had last seen the spirit of the puzzle? How long had it been since he had seen his now dead friend Yugi? Both had been inseparable, always around each other, offering to support each other no matter what. Well that was until Yami had started dating Marik. Then they seemed to drift apart, only to get worse when he and Marik had moved away to the United States.

And then _it_ happened. Yugi had saved up all his money from working extra hours at the Game Shop just so he could go visit his other when it seemed Yami wasn't responding to him anymore. So off he went, with high hopes of seeing his yami but he never returned. And he could still remember that day, three years ago when Jou showed up at his door….

"_What the hell are you doing here Mutt?"_

_Mokuba rolled his eyes as he turned the corner to see his older brother standing like an imposing wall in the doorway, glaring at Jou. Peaking around the stiff body, he furrowed his eyebrows at the sight of his friend. He had never seen Jou look so….broken before; red-rimmed eyes, hair messier than usual, clothes looking like they had been slept in for days._

"_I wanted to speak to Mokuba and well you too, Kaiba. Even though I'm not sure you'll care about what I have to say." Jou replied, for once not bothering to make a snide remark when it came to his usual offending nickname._

_Ever the more tactful Kaiba, Mokuba placed a hand on his brother's arm, effectively silencing him, then turned to Jou. "Something wrong Jou?"_

_Running a hand through his mop of blonde hair, Jou nods his head. "May I come in? This is not something I think you want to hear out on the front door steps."_

_With a glare, Seto stepped out of the way, allowing the blonde to enter the immaculate mansion, and started walking back towards the sitting room, not bothering to wait for the other two to follow him._

_Once seated, Mokuba beside his brother on the couch and Jou on the loveseat, Jou looked briefly at Kaiba before he turned to Mokuba. "I'm afraid I have some really bad news…" he stopped, looking suddenly like he was going to break._

"_Jou?" Mokuba asked, concern and panic laced in his voice._

_With a sigh, amber eyes looked away from pleading gray. "Jii-chan, Mr. Mutou, received a call a couple of days ago from California. The same place Yugi went to check on Yami."_

_Mokuba nodded his head as his brother seemed to stiffen just slightly beside him._

"_It was the police. They…" Jou swallowed, adverting his eyes. "They wanted him to come to the states to identify Yugi's body."_

"_W-what?"_

_Amber eyes looked back into wide, disbelieving gray before he looked over to see narrowed sapphire ones looking at him with something akin to venom, as if he was waiting for the sick punch line. "The San Francisco PD responded to a call at Yami's and Marik's house. When they got there they found both of Yugi and Marik dead. Marik was in the bedroom and Yugi…" Jou stopped, choking on his next words. "Yugi was found in Yami's arms."_

"_What about Yami?" Seto's voice was low and steady as if he was asking about nothing more than the weather._

_Mokuba glanced wide-eyed at his brother, clearly seeing through the hard mask Seto was wearing. Years ago Seto and Yami had put aside their rivalry when the truth about their ancient past was revealed. Finding out that the young pharaoh had been his cousin, and a close one at that, Seto had taken Yami in as another one of his family. Well, that is until Marik had come into the picture._

_Jou sighed, stood up and began to pace the floor in front of the two Kaiba brothers, one hand raking through his messy blonde locks. "That I'm not completely sure of. I know he's alive but other than that I have no clue."_

"_What do you mean you have no clue?" Seto's voice now had taken on a steely edge to it. "How could you not know?"_

"_Don't you think I tried to find out? But since I'm not family they wouldn't tell me a damn thing. And Jii-chan isn't talking about it. He's the only one that knows how and where Yami is."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_After he confirmed the bodies of Marik and Yugi, they asked him if he wanted to see his other grandson. And he said 'I have no other grandson' and out the door we went."_

_Seto and Mokuba both stared at him in shock while Jou continued to pace the floor, clearly aggravated about what had happened. "He won't talk about what the police told him. I don't even know how they died or what happened other than they were killed and that Yami is or was still alive. I know he was at the hospital but other than that I have no clue."_

"_I'll find out."_

_Mokuba watched with tears in his eyes as Seto walked out of the living room and back towards his office. He vaguely heard Jou talking about the date set for the funeral, his mind too worried, numb –shocked- to really process anything at that moment…._

But Seto had never been able to find out. Obviously Jii-chan was determined not to let anyone get to Yami or find out about him for the records had all disappeared, vanished like they never existed in the first place. Even a trip to the hospital that he had supposedly been at turned up futile.

Everyone expected him to show up at his hikari's funeral, but when it was over and there was still no sign of him, it sent mixed emotions throughout the rest of the gang. Everyone just _knew_ that he had either caused Yugi's death or that he didn't care. Jii-chan's reaction to the whole thing seemed to fuel their thoughts, and to this day, they said Yami's name like it was some kind of sin.

The only ones that didn't believe that Yami had anything to do with the small duelist's death, other than him and Seto, was Ryou and Bakura. Both of them holding steadfast to the belief that Yami would never hurt, much less kill the other half of his soul.

Needless to say, this caused a huge rift between the once tight group. Let another reason why he chose to go to school in another country. He couldn't stand all the bitter feelings between them all.

"Now that everyone is here, I would like to introduce you all to a psychology student that will be spending time with us over the next few weeks. Everyone, say hello to Mokuba Kaiba."

Gray eyes watched intently as the black haired boy slowly raised his head. Mokuba's eyes went impossibly wide; his heart seemed to stop as his breath caught in his throat when dull, hollow crimson eyes looked back at him.

_Yami…._

* * *

Dragon: Jii-chan has his reasons for acting like he is which will be explained much, much later, along with the gang's reactions. 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Colors of the Soul  
Author: Crimson Eyed Dragon  
Pairing: Mentions of Marik/Yami  
Rating: R  
Warnings: Language, mentions of rape  
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh

Summary: It's been three years since anyone has seen Yami and when the Kaibas' find him, even Seto's best efforts to heal this broken spirit may not be enough.

Status: 2/6

**Dragon: **All the color meanings seen from now on out are correct. I researched them on various sites, finding the meanings I needed to fit with the story. And thank you so much for the reviews!

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Mokuba paced the floor of his dorm room, slowly wearing a hole in the already flat dark green carpet. One hand continued to tug on the low ponytail that he had pulled his raven colored hair into when had stepped out of the shower. His other hand absentmindedly rubbed his dark blue gym shorts covered thigh, as if trying to wipe off something sticky and irritating. He couldn't believe he had seen Yami earlier today and at a psychiatric ward at that. Of all the places they had looked for him that wasn't one of them.

It was hard to believe that Yami had been diagnosed with PTSD _with_ depression. That was something he would have never thought he would have ever heard said about the confident, proud person he once knew. No, this Yami was anything but. Now he just had to figure out what happened to cause it.

He never had time to ask those questions after today's session. Everything had become chaotic at one point causing Dr. Hodge to immediately leave after it was over. And Yami wasn't in any condition to talk to him he soon realized. The only words he seemed to respond with were various colors in some order that had him completely baffled.

The only thing that the doctor did offer was that Yami seemed to have changed his normal color routine to include 'yellow' at the end, something she said he had never done before today. It all confused him and left a deep feeling of worry for the friend and cousin he once knew.

There was such a _lost_ look in his eyes. Like a deep loneliness that he couldn't explain or touch. Not to mention the lifelessness that seemed to radiate around the crimson-eyed male. It was as if his whole world was invisible at that moment to everyone but him. He was withdrawn, curled into himself – a thin shell of what he used to be.

He needed answers; he needed information – not only about his mental condition but also about what had happened to Yami several years ago to bring him to this state. And like his brother, he wouldn't stop until he got the answers he was seeking.

He stopped his pacing with one final tug on his hair and walked over to the small wooden desk in the corner of his room and flipped open his laptop. While his and Seto's search through police and hospital records had turned up nothing, he could still learn as much as he could about Yami's condition until he was able to speak to Yami's doctor in the morning. Anything he could find out would be a big help when he finally got a chance to speak to the male in question. Last thing he wanted was to accidentally do something to set him off.

Mokuba glanced over to his cellphone that lay at the edge of the wooden surface as he scratched a particular itch on his right forearm. He contemplated calling Seto to tell him that he had found Yami after all these years but then, knowing his brother, Seto would demand details – details he didn't have yet. So with that thought in mind, he turned his gaze from the phone back to the computer screen and began typing in what he needed information on. After all, he would have his answers tomorrow, and then he could call Seto.

* * *

Once warm gray eyes were now more like hard, unbending steel as Mokuba walked into the Home the next morning. He was determined to get all the answers to his questions. His sneakers squeaked as he stepped along the newly waxed white tiled floor, making his way towards Dr. Hodge's office where he had been told to meet her.

His face showed signs of a sleepless night. Small dark circles under his aged, slanted eyes and his lips in a thin line made him look more like his brother than any other time. His dreams – or rather nightmares – were plagued with visions of what _might_ have occurred three years ago to leave Yami in this state of mind and his small friend and once hero eternally sleeping in the Domino Cemetery back in Japan.

Upon reaching the doctor's door, Mokuba took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, trying to relive some of the tension he was feeling. Rolling his shoulders back to straighten his back, he knocked on her door and tried to smile kindly when it opened up revealing the doctor.

"Hello Mokuba. Please come in. We'll be visiting our patient shortly."

With a curt not of his head, the younger Kaiba follower her further into her office, not really glancing around at the pristine surroundings as he passed the black leather sofa and took a seat in the chair in front of her desk.

Standing behind it, Dr. Hodge smiled gently at the student. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to ask you if you had any questions about the group session yesterday."

"Actually, I do have some questions but they are about one of the patients, not about what happened."

Nodding her head, she sat quietly in her chair, her hands neatly folded together. "You do know that everything that I tell you must not be repeated outside this office?"

"Yeah." Too bad he had no intentions of keeping his mouth shut. Yami was like family to them – missing family - and Kaibas never turn their backs on loved ones.

"Okay then. Who would you like to know about?"

"Yami." He began, making sure that his voice portrayed his curiosity only on a professional level. "Yesterday he only spoke in colors. According to everything that I know about PTSD, a total retardation of the mind is not part of the symptoms."

The woman sighed, hands unclasping to fumble through various files till she came across one rather thick one and handed it over to him. "You're correct. While Yami does have PTSD with depression, it's not his main problem. To tell you the truth, nothing seems to fit him. Sleeping disorders, eating disorders, panic attacks, depression, PTSD, mental retardation, speaking only in colors, and in the three years he's been here, he's only made two milestones.

"When he first came here, he only spoke in Japanese. We had no clue as to what he was saying until one of the nurses translated it for us. For six months he only spoke that language. Then suddenly, he began to speak in English. Nothing changed again till about eight months later when he started giving people names in colors instead of just chanting them over and over again."

She chuckled a little, "He calls me 'Aqua'. And at first, I took in all in stride, letting him have his comfort zone until I noticed that he seemed to state certain colors at certain times like when he was upset or looking at things. During his panic attacks, he'll repeat the same mantra of black, gray, red, brown, and white over and over again. So I got curious and one night I sat down and looked up the colors he was referring too.

"Yami is by no means unintelligent as I found out. There is meaning behind every color he uses, and when you know that, you can understand him. Did you know that the color aqua can by associated with emotional healing which is part of what I do?"

Mokuba absorbed all this information, trying not to snap at the lady and tell her that Yami had never been stupid and that she was a moron for even thinking that he was. "What about the other colors? The ones he keeps repeating?"

She pointed to the still unopened file in Mokuba's hands. "In there is an extra copy of the various colors he uses and their meanings. I make all the aids and nurses that work with him memorize it so feel free to take one and use it while you are here."

Mokuba nodded his head but didn't bother to look for the sheet just yet. He still had a few more questions. "You said yesterday that he added 'yellow' to his normal routine but you didn't explain why."

"I believe 'yellow' is the name he gave you."

"Yellow?" he murmured to himself. It seemed strange that he would be labeled with such a bright color. "Do you know what caused him to get like this?"

"According to the limited court and hospital reports, Yami was in a homosexual relationship and was a victim of domestic abuse. Not only was he emotionally abused but physically also." Mokuba could feel the bile beginning to rise in his throat as his heart began to clinch tightly. "There was evidence that this had been going on for months, maybe even years before it ended – sexually and physically assaulted. He had infected cuts and bite marks on him when the police found him. Some of the pictures they took for evidence are in that file also."

Even though he wasn't as good at hiding his emotions as his brother was, Mokuba willed himself to remain passive about the information in front of the doctor. But as his fingers began to dreaded task of opening up the innocent looking plain manila folder, he realized that is efforts weren't as good as he hoped. His movements were jerky, his fingers twitching as he flipped it open.

God, how could this have happened to someone he knew and loved like a brother? How could someone have done such horrible things to Yami of all people? And how come no one had tried to stop it before it left him in such a state? How come he had never seen it either?

"Heartbreaking isn't it?"

He looked up, stunned that she had noticed.

"His case." She stated, pointing to the now open file. "The first few cases affect you more. But over time, you almost become numb to it. Anyways," she stood up and walked towards the door. "I'll leave you here to look at that for a few minutes. I'm going to go get Yami now, then I'll come back to get you before we leave."

"Excuse me, we're leaving? Yami's our patient?"

"Yes to both. Yami is scheduled for his exposure therapy today. And since nothing has worked so far, we are going to try the next step and take him back to the scene of the crime."

Mokuba was too shocked to say anything but figured he must not have shown it on his face or she didn't care because Dr. Hodge just walked out the door without a second glance. Closing his eyes, he sank back into the chair. He was going to go to where Yami had lived? And worse yet, Yami was going to have to revisit a place that would obviously hold bad memories for him. He honestly didn't think his friend could handle that again. And he wasn't even sure he could handle it himself.

Knowing that he only had a few minutes before she came back, he quickly pushed those thoughts aside, opened his eyes and began to look at the file in his lap. The first page was one of those copies the doctor had talked about so he pulled it out and placed on top of her desk. The next page was the patient profile sheet.

Name: Atemu Yami Ishtar  
Age: 25  
Parents: Deceased – no living relatives

Well that explained one of the reasons they'd had such a hard time finding him. Yami had never gone by the name of Atemu or Ishtar – it had always been Mutou. And well, yes, Yami's parents were dead –had been for over three thousand years – but the 'no living relatives' part was false. He had a grandfather. But then again, Jou did say that Mr. Mutou told them that he had no other grandson other than Yugi.

Anger replaced the sick feeling in his stomach. Had Mr. Mutou known about Yami's condition and yet still denied him when he was needed the most? He must have seen the marks, the evidence or did he just turn his back without even bothering to at least check on him? Whatever it was, it still wasn't right in Mokuba's eyes.

He flipped to the next page and instantly one of his hands flew to his mouth, muffling the gasp he knew he would emit at the horrible pictures he saw paper clipped to the page.

Three pictures from different angles showed black eyes, bite marks on his shoulders and neck, various cuts – one in particular looked like some form of hieroglyphs carved on his left pectoral muscle above his nipple. They were angry, red, raw looking – clear signs that they were infected. But the completely soulless, lifeless look in Yami's eyes was what made Mokuba want to cry for the first time in years.

Unable to look at them any longer, he turned the page and began reading what looked like a court report ordering a year of psychiatric therapy.

"Are you ready?"

Mokuba jumped slightly as Dr. Hodge's voice rang through the room. Nodding his head, he closed the file, placed it on her desk and picked up the color sheet. When he turned around, he had to force himself not to stop and stare at Yami, who was currently standing behind the doctor.

He was once again dressed in sweatpants and a long sleeved T-shirt but instead of gray like last time, it was black. Mokuba guessed now that it was to cover up the scars on his body, something a lot of victims did to hide the harsh truth of their lives. He gave Yami a brief, yet gentle smile, as he walked out of the room and followed behind the other two. He hated seeing Yami walk with his head down, shoulders slumped, feet dragging the ground. He hated everything period for neither of them should be doing this right now.

Silently, the three made their way down to the unmarked van that was sitting outside of the main entrance to the Home. Climbing up into the front passenger seat, Mokuba turned back to help Yami with his seat belt only to raise an eyebrow when he saw it was already clicked in place.

"He's not totally incompetent as his mental status would have you believe." Dr. Hodge replied as she got in and started up the van. "He dresses himself, takes his own showers, feeds himself, etc. That's another confusing part about him. He totally functions in life normally except for his speech and thought patterns. If he had family, I wouldn't hesitate to send him to them. He would be much better off around people that loved him, not just help take care of him."

Well that was good to know. Makes things easier on them when they were ready to get him out of here. With one last glance at Yami, who was now staring out the window, he turned to look at the doctor. "In the files, it said that a court ordered him here for only a year. Now I assume that since he has no family that he just stayed here under the state's control after the year was up. But why was the court, of all places, ordering it and not the hospital?"

Pulling the van out of the driveway, she nodded her head, "You're correct but as for your question, he went to trial. You see, he killed his abusive boyfriend and it had to be proven that it was self-defense."

"He killed him?"

"Gray plus black equals red. Black minus white is invisible."

The voice was low and deep but barely above a whisper and yet Mokuba heard them as if they had been shouted off a cliff to echo repeatedly in a valley below. Eyes wide, he turned his head to look at Yami who was staring at him…with absolutely no expression or emotion whatsoever. It was eerie to see him when he looked like that – his black hair and red eyes – a hollow, haunted soul.

He gulped, not looking at the doctor since Yami hadn't stop looking at him. "What does he mean by that?"

"That is still a mystery. We can't figure what he means, Mokuba."

"Yellow."

Dr. Hodge smiled as she took her eyes off the road to glance in the rearview mirror at Yami, who had yet still not taken his eyes off the young man. "That's right, Yami. Mokuba is Yellow."

With a curt nod of his head, as if he was satisfied that he had been understood and taken seriously, Yami finally looked away and back out the window, allowing Mokuba to tear his own gaze away and look at the paper still in his hands. His gray eyes scanned the page until it fell onto the color he was searching for.

Yellow – Joy, happiness, intellect, energy.

He blinked in confusion till it clicked in his mind why Yami was insisting that was his color. Last time they saw each other, he was still basically a kid and a hyperactive one at that. Of course Yami would be drawing on some type of memory, if not then he once spirit still had that amazing ability to see into people's souls even if that was nearly damn impossible since all of his powers had been stripped away when he received his own body.

But then, some people did show signs of being able to read people, to know a person almost inside and out even if they had just met. A _great judge of character_ most people called it. The same could hold true for Yami even in his current state of mind.

Nothing more of any importance was said as they drove through the California traffic. Idle chitchat about Japan and her family was passed back and forth all the while Mokuba noticed that Yami never once looked away from the window or uttered another word.

Soon the younger Kaiba noticed that they had left the 'better' part of the city and was now heading towards the more rundown, remote area of San Francisco. He watched the buildings and houses whip by with a foreboding sense of dread.

"What are we going to do once we get here?"

Dr. Hodge turned the van down another street. "Nothing really. I want to see if just seeing this place will bring out any memory, emotion or noticeable change in him. If it does, then we are on the right track, if it doesn't then we may have to push him a bit by bring up things that could have happened to him."

"So basically, you want him to force himself to deal with something that was so sever that it caused him to become this way and _hope_ that it has a positive outcome?"

"Yes."

"And if it has a negative one?"

"Exposure therapy has proven very affective with patience suffering from PTSD."

"But didn't you also say that PTSD wasn't his only problem? And if what you said is true, then this could very well have negative results." His voice had a steely edge to it as he spoke. The more and more he heard, the more and more he was beginning to dislike the 'supposed' proven methods these people were using on Yami.

Yami didn't deserve any of this.

She didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride and whether that was from her own doubts or the way he was rebuking her knowledge and abilities, he had no clue nor did he care. All that mattered now was that he had to be there for Yami and that they needed to get him out of this place as soon as possible and back home in Japan where he belonged.

As soon as the van stopped and the doctor cut the engine, Mokuba glanced back to Yami and immediately narrowed his eyes. Yami was staring out the window, crimson eyes trained steadily on one of the houses and his right hand crept under the neck of his shirt and was rubbing the skin over and over again in the same spot and if Mokuba remembered correctly, that was where the infected bite mark had been.

So it begins.

Dr. Hodge opened her driver's side door and stepped out, Mokuba doing the same before he opened the side door, letting it slide all the way back. "Come on Yami, let's go." His heart screamed at him to stop this, to demand that they leave Yami alone and get away from here. But at the same time, a morbid curiosity from his mind wanted too see how this played out, to see how Yami would react to all of this.

With slow methodical movements, Yami made his way out of the van, placing his black sneaker covered feet onto the dark, cracked asphalt. His eyes held a bit of wariness in them as he stared at the house in front of them and across the street. It was easy for Mokuba to pick out which house had been his, with the bordered up windows and the yellow 'condemned' paper posted on the front door. The place was a dump plain and simple.

"Do you recognize this place Yami?" Dr. Hodge asked finally, gaining Mokuba's attention.

But the crimson-eyed male never answered her. He just stood there, back stiff and tight, eyes wide and unblinking while the hand that was still on the bite mark began to rub harder, faster on the scared flesh, till his fingers curled and began to scratch the skin under the shirt.

"Black."

Gray and brown eyes looked at Yami when he spoke, carefully observing him for any signs that he would bolt if the strain became too much. The scratching intensified making Mokuba wonder just how much damage he was doing to himself.

"Gray."

He mentally kicked himself for leaving that color sheet in the van, he would have loved to try to figure out what Yami might be referring to at this time but he was reluctant to leave the other's side.

Suddenly, Yami jerked, his hand going still, eyes snapped closed, his breathing becoming erratic. Mokuba made a move to go to Yami, to see if he could sooth the panicking soul but a hand on his arm stopped him. He narrowed his eyes as Dr. Hodge shook her head.

"Leave him alone, he needs to do this." She whispered to him while adjusting something on a small recorder he just noticed for the first time.

"Don't you think that this could be…" His words were drowned out by the sound of an anguished cry. Both their heads snapped towards Yami to see him looking horrified at his right hand that was now covered in small amounts of fresh blood.

"Red, red, red, red…." The words were repeated over and over again, going from soft to loud in a matter of seconds making it all too clear to Mokuba what the word had meant all along to Yami. The smaller man began to curl into himself, taking slow, shaky steps backwards till he hit the side of the van, with a small thud, leaving him no place to escape to.

Mokuba watched, both in shock and slight awe as Yami's words became more and more jumbled, more erratic. He was frozen in place not only by the hand that still lingered on his arm but also because of his unease of the whole situation.

"Black, gray, red, red-brown, white, white-red, white-brown, black, red, black minus white, invisible, invisible, invisible…."

The words went on and on, only making sense to the one that was voicing them as Yami's body continued to curl into itself till it could do nothing more than slid dejectedly down the side of the van to curl up in a ball on the dirty asphalt.

Mokuba bit his lip, not sure what to do to not only help his friend but also not wanting to make any wrong movement that could send Yami into a state of panic so great that they might not be able to bring him out of it again. It was horrifying, intriguing, overwhelming to witness this event. But all his indecisions were taken away when he heard one word, one different word being added to the whole strange mantra…..

"Yellow."

Jerking his hand away from the doctor, Mokuba ignored her words telling him to stop and quickly walked over to the broken spirit and knelt down beside him.

"Yellow, yellow, yellow…."

He couldn't help it. Tears flowed from his eyes as he gathered up the smaller man in his arms, ignoring the sudden stiffing of the body in his arms and began to rock him back and forth whispering soothing words, drowning out the strange colored words with his own voice. Mokuba hadn't cried in years – not since Yugi's funeral - but this had to be one of the most heartbreaking sights he had ever seen and it was one he never wanted to see again. Yami wouldn't or couldn't cry but Mokuba would cry for him.

"Black minus yellow?"

Stunned at the new line, Mokuba stopped rocking Yami and looked into the same dull crimson eyes, but this time, yes this time, he could see a spark of something else in their depths. Something that hadn't been there before now.

"Black minus yellow?"

It was a question, how he knew that he didn't know for Yami's voice never changed form the monotone that he had been using but something in Mokuba's soul stirred at those words. He had no clue what Yami was trying to ask, no idea at the importance of those three little seemingly innocent words but he just knew the answer to it anyways as if his heart and soul understood the pleading the wounded spirit in his arms was emitting.

"Black minus yellow?"

Drawing Yami once again closer to him, he ran a hand through strange black locks and smiled through his tears. He knew this answer, his heart knew it long before his mind did and as he gave Yami his answer, and he finally understood that longing, that strange voice that called him to a foreign land and away from his brother….

"No, Yami. Black _plus_ yellow."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Colors of the Soul  
Author: Crimson Eyed Dragon  
Pairing: Mentions of Marik/Yami  
Rating: R  
Warnings: Language, mentions of rape  
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh  
Summary: It's been three years since anyone has seen Yami and when the Kaibas' find him, even Seto's best efforts to heal this broken spirit may not be enough.

Status: 3/6

**Dragon: **Reviewer responses are on my LJ, link is in my profile

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"Yes, I know Mokuba."

"_Good, now how far out are you? I've been waiting on you in this parking lot for twenty-five minutes now."_

"Under normal circumstances, I would have been there before you. But damn this traffic."

"_Yeah, ain't California wonderful Seto?"_

"My feelings for it have just declined. Its taught you to use atrocious words like _ain't_."

"_And no one uses words like atrocious. You need to get out more then you would understand that."_

"Ain't isn't even a proper word." Seto scowled.

"_Actually, its in the English dictionary. And when in Rome…."_

"You are not in Rome, you are in the United States."

"_Whatever Seto. Are you any closer yet? I want to get Yami out of here as soon as possible. He needs to be home."_

Seto sighed and pushed the gas petal down as the light changed from red to green. "I know Mokuba, I want him out of there as much as you do. Listen, I'm about ten minutes out. I'll see you soon."

After hanging up with his younger brother, Seto tossed the cell phone in the empty passenger seat of his rented Cadillac CTS, landing on the plain manila file that contained all the forged documents he would need to claim that he was Yami's first cousin.

Its not like the fact was that much of a stretch, it just wasn't legal and slightly off by a few thousand years. But that part didn't matter to him anymore. He had fully embraced the magic and ancient world after he took an unexpected trip into the memory world.

To see those events, to see it with his very own eyes and to actually fight in a battle - to feel that pain - was enough to open his eyes and finally see what had been in his face all along. But to see himself – his past self – and to see the strong bond that the priest and the pharaoh had, to know they were family, cousins and yet still _friendly_ rivals had been shocking to say the least.

And when Yami – Atemu back then – had come to his aid when he was fighting Zork, trying to save those kids in the street, and had merged their souls together to form the Master Dragon Knight, how could he not accept things and look at Yami in a new light? To be that close to someone, to have your souls merged together to fight something greater than you… it would be impossible to contain a bitter rivalry between them. But then again, it had always been Seto who had been bitter about it. Yami had, ever since Death T, seen something worthwhile in him but he didn't fully understand that until the very end of the memory world.

He had watched, passive as always, as the Pharaoh Atemu gave Priest Seth his Sennen Puzzle, handing over the fate of Egypt to his beloved cousin, entrusting him thoroughly even if just hours ago Seth had tried to take his life and his title away from him. Atemu trusted Seth beyond a shadow of a doubt just as Yami now trusted Seto the same.

How could he not bring the other into his family when he received his own body? They were family in some strange sense even if it was several thousand years old.

So how could he not have searched for endless hours looking for a member of his family when he had been thrown aside by his supposed grandfather right when he needed him the most? But there was nothing to be found which angered, worried and perplexed the CEO unlike anything else. It seemed like a hopeless cause. That is until Mokuba called him two nights ago…..

"_Kaiba."_

"_OhmygodSeto!" He raised an eyebrow at his brother's tone; it had been many years since his younger brother rambled all his words together. "Ifoundhim!He'shere…inCal!"_

"_Slow down Mokuba." Seto switched the phone from his right ear to his left. "I can't understand a word your saying."_

"_I. Found. Him."_

"_Found who?" There was a slow, nagging sensation deep in his stomach. Like he would be both nervous and joyful about whoever his brother had found._

"_Yami."_

_Never a time could he recall in his twenty-six years of life, ad he ever been so shocked, so stunned that he dropped the phone, it's deep thud resounding in the still room as it hit the carpeted floor. His mouth was almost as wide as his eyes as Mokuba's words rang repeatedly over and over again in his head. He glanced down at the thankfully unbroken phone and snapping his mouth shut, he picked it up again, hearing his brother's voice calling out to him._

"_Are you sure its him?"_

"_I know its Yami. Who else has red eyes?"_

_He sighed, relief flooding his system as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Where did you see him?"_

"_That's just it, I found him while working on that internship I told you about at the mental home."_

"_He works there?" Somehow, Seto just couldn't see his old rival, friend and cousin working with the mentally handicapped. Sure the guy had a big heart, would do anything for the ones he claimed in his small circle of friends and family, but that was the point. Those people weren't close to him. Yami was usually aloof to ones that he didn't know personally._

"_No." There was a small waver in his voice that instantly sent Seto on the edge. "He's not working here Seto….he's a patient here."_

_If he had not been expecting something this time, he would have dropped the phone for the second time in his life. "W-what?"_

"_Marik really fucked him up." Seto couldn't bring himself to reprehend his brother's foul mouth this time, having the horrible feeling that even that word wasn't strong enough to describe the situation. "He's been diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and he has other problems that they can't identify. I saw his files Seto."_

_Seto's breathing was becoming labored – shallow – as he closed his eyes. "What did you find?"_

"_That Marik beat the shit out of him, rapped him, and completely destroyed his mind. Seto…he only talks in colors now. His mind has reverted back to almost child-like. He's…." Mokuba choked on his next words, "He's…not the Yami we once knew. It's like he's an illusion of who he was."_

_His heart screamed out an anguished cry as he listened to what his brother said. He instantly knew that what ever had happened to Yami it must have been completely beyond his knowledge or control for it to have caused the most complexed, brilliant mind he had ever known to be reduced to this. _

"_Seto," his brother said, breaking his thoughts. "The records have him listed as Atemu Yami Ishtar, just so you know when you go to make the needed documents."_

_Despite everything he had just learned, he had to smile at that. His brother knew him well. "I'll call you from the jet."_

It had taken him two days to get the necessary papers, finalize his workload, and fly over seas to the state of California – two days longer than he wanted, but couldn't be helped nevertheless.

It pained his heart and soul that he had not been there that day Mokuba found Yami. That bond they had formed back in the Memory World urged him like a Siren, calling to another land – the song more powerful than his dragon's roar.

It was even worse one he had been able to locate Yami's records.

Finally having the proper name – although wrong – Seto was able to access them after a few hours of searching. Police, hospital, court records were all 'locked' away, undoubtedly by a good lawyer and a fair amount of money. Supposedly, only the US military or the FBI were the ones with the knowledge of what were in those files. Too bad for them that Seto Kaiba was just as skilled and as sneaky as any of the United States government branches.

But what he saw, what he read, in those uncovered files not only horrified him but frightened him as well. It hit too close to home for his liking.

Every cut, every scar, and bruise on the once flawless golden flesh brought back more memories than he cared to remember. He could almost feel what had been going on in Yami's mind with each punishment he had received at the hands of Marik.

After all, Gozaburo had done almost the exact same thing to him.

So with more determination than he had when he worked to get his company back from DOMA, Seto set out to get everything he needed for Yami's homecoming.

* * *

"Mokuba? What are you doing here? You're not scheduled to come back 'till next week."

"Dr. Hodge," Mokuba began, ignoring her question, "This is my brother Seto Kaiba. He's come here from Japan to see one of your patients."

Brown eyes swirling with confusion and slight suspicion glanced from the younger Kaiba to Seto, who nodded his head curtly in her direction. "Oh? And who might that be?"

"Yami Ishtar."

"And the nature of your visit? It's a long way from Japan to California Mr. Kaiba."

Icy blue eyes locked on to hers as he handed her the file that had been tucked under his arm. "I'm here to sign my cousin out and take him home."

"Your cousin?" She looked back at Mokuba, eyes narrowing. "You told him when law clearly forbids you?"

Mokuba just shrugged his shoulders, "Yami is family and up until a few days ago he had been missing. We searched for years. Do you honestly think I would keep my mouth shut?"

Seto interrupted before the doctor could retort, "Where is Yami?"

Ignoring his question, she opened the file and began leafing through the documents. "If this is true, then how come it took you this long to find him?"

"That's really none of your business Ms. Hodge." Seto said icily, ignoring her professional title. "All you need to know is we are here now. Now, I'm going to ask you again. Where is he?" He gritted his teeth, his patience wearing thin.

With a wary but defeated sigh, she closed the files but didn't hand them back to either Kaiba. "He's in his room, Mokuba knows where that is." She gestured to the file, "I'll go set the paper work up."

Both brothers nodded their heads as she turned to leave. Once she was safely away, Mokuba led Seto down several hallways. They walked in silence, each gathering their thoughts before they saw their cousin.

Soon Mokuba stopped in front of a plain looking gray metal door with a small window at the top and center of it. The younger Kaiba peered through the double paned and crisscrossing wires imbedded between them – designed to keep one from using it as a means of escaping – to make sure that Yami was still in his room just as the doctor had said.

"Seto," he stepped aside and motioned towards the window. "Maybe you should take a look now, so you won't be so shocked when you get in there. You don't need to show any outward signs of being uncomfortable around him. He'll pick up on it."

He just scowled at his brother. "Who said I was uncomfortable?"

"Just do as I say, ok brother? You might not show it to others but I know you better than anyone else and I can tell that is bothering you and I think I know the reason why."

Mentally he berated himself. He should have known that his facade would never work with Mokuba. And he was right, this was all too familiar and all too close for comfort. It was becoming clear that one of the main reasons he had survived was because he loathed the man –the bastard- that had abused him. But Yami… he had loved Marik with heart and soul.

He could only imagine what it must have felt like to Yami every time Marik threw all of it right back in his face.

Gritting his teeth, letting his emotions show just a bit, he walked up to the little window and peered inside. At first he didn't see anything – not even personal possessions – and for a moment he thought the room was empty of life. But giving the room a second glance, Seto finally saw a bit of moment off to the side. Turning his head to get a better angle, Seto's eyes narrowed.

There, sitting in a corner of the stark room, was a male in dark blue sweatpants and a gray long sleeved top with his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms were wrapped around his legs as he slowly rocked back and forth.

This…was Yami? With his black hair and that missing proud aura? No, this could not be his ultimate rival and only friend. He glanced back at his brother who gave him a knowing look.

"Hard to believe isn't it?"

Not trusting himself to speak, he just nodded his head and stepped aside as Mokuba grabbed the knob and turned it. Pushing it open, Mokuba stepped inside, holding the door for his brother to step through, closing it behind him with a small 'click'.

Seto was rooted in his spot as Yami lifted his head up at the sound. Sapphire eyes widened considerably. Those were Yami's eyes and yet….they weren't. So lifeless and _empty_ they seemed, lacking that spark of mischief and arrogance that they once held. It almost looked as if he was gazing through Seto instead of at him.

Yami's head turned as Mokuba approached him and Seto barely noticed the slight shift in color those eyes made even as his slightly shrunken face remained impassive.

"Yellow?"

"Yeah its me, Yami." Mokuba said as he lowered himself to the floor beside his cousin. "How are you doing today?"

He looked away, his rocking finally stopping as he seemed to contemplate the question, then answered in a soft voice, "Purple….dark."

"Dark purple?" Seto asked, confused on the meaning. Mokuba had already warned him about Yami's color fixation – and he learned the primary colors – but the variations he was still lost on.

But instead of answering his brother, the younger Kaiba questioned Yami further. "Feeling sad?" Yami shook his head. "Frustrated?" This time Yami nodded.

"I see," Mokuba smiled again at Yami. "Well hopefully that's about to be all over. Yami? Do you remember my brother Seto?" he jerked his head towards his brother who had not moved since he entered the room.

Those hollow eyes turned back to him and this time they looked _at_ him with another flash of recognition. "Blue," Yami said simply and gave a small nod of his head.

"Blue?" Seto rattled off the meaning, "Trust, loyalty, wisdom, confidence, intelligence, and faith."

Mokuba chuckled. "That's your name Nii-sama. It fits don't you think?"

He couldn't help the small smirk that formed on his lips as he finally moved from his place at the door and walked across the small room to kneel down in front of Yami. But the movement and the fact he was cornered seemed to alarm their cousin. His eyes went slightly wide and he pressed his body impossibly further into the joining walls.

To Seto, at that very moment - with his wide eyes, black hair and frightened posture – Yami suddenly reminded him of a time many years ago when Mokuba was still a child and both of them lived under the oppressive rule of Gozaburo Kaiba.

Instincts kicked in.

Softening his expression, to one he only allowed those closest to him to see, he carefully and slowly raised his hand, letting Yami see his every moment. It pleased him to see that Yami neither flinched nor went limp in surrender. Inwardly, he rejoiced knowing that Yami wasn't completely broken, had healed some, or remembered him enough to know that Seto was trustworthy.

"Shhh," he soothed as Mokuba watched on warily, concerned about how Yami might react. But to both their surprise, Yami relaxed slightly, his body uncurling and his eyes returning to their normal size. Encouraged, Seto continued to move his hand towards Yami until he was lightly touching the ex-spirits cheek.

Amazingly, Yami closed his eyes and leaned into the now caressing fingers. Trust – no matter how little – showed clearly in that simple gesture.

It was a beginning.

"Would you like to go home with me to Japan, Yami?" Seto asked after a few minutes of silence, hating to break the almost peaceful atmosphere.

Crimson eyes slowly opened and immediately both Seto and Mokuba noticed their color were a shade lighter than before. And with a slight nod of his head, he answered with a yes.

* * *

**Dragon:** Just a note: I did not pick blue for Seto because of his eyes or his BEWD, I chose it because out of all the color meanings I found, it fit him best. And actually, _dark blue_ (knowledge, power, and seriousness) was better suited for him but having Yami call him Dark Blue just doesn't sound as good.

**Dark purple** evokes gloom and sad feelings; frustration


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Colors of the Soul  
Author: Crimson Eyed Dragon  
Pairing: Mentions of Marik/Yami  
Rating: R  
Warnings: Language, mentions of rape  
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh  
Summary: It's been three years since anyone has seen Yami and when the Kaibas' find him, even Seto's best efforts to heal this broken spirit may not be enough.

Status: 4/6

**Dragon: **Atemu's thoughts are broken on purpose. So any grammar errors during his thinking are intentional.

_**Italics denotes Atemu's inner thoughts**_

* * *

**Chapter 4**

_A month later_

Seto sighed wearily as he closed his laptop then rested his head in the palms of his hands, taking a moment to breath while the peaceful silence remained. Lifting his head up, he checked the clock sitting on his desk, noting the time now read a little after one AM. With a grunt, he pushed his chair back, allowing him to stand up and walk over to his closet, pulling out a pair of sweat pants and t-shirt he had begun to sleep in ever since Atemu – now going by that name since Seto refused to call him anything else – came to stay with him.

During that time, Seto learned quickly that his nights and days would be busy watching over a man who needed constant supervision. While Atemu could do basic things on his own such as shower, feed, and dress himself, he was just too mentally unstable to be left alone in most of the house. If he happened to have a panic attack, flashback or anything remotely similar, any object in that room became dangerous to the broken man.

Realizing this, Seto decided to start working from home, rarely going to KC for anything if he could help it. He could have easily hired a nurse to come sit with Atemu but Seto didn't really trust his cousin's care to anyone else and he highly doubted the Egyptian would take to anyone else looking at him or touching him. The scene at the airport proved that point.

They were walking towards there flight, Atemu calm, head down, shuffling along aside him when he was picked for one of those random body searches the American airports did. When the man touched Atemu, it was like his whole body shut down, his mind withdrew as he whimpered and collapsed against Seto.

After some prescription drugs, threats, and explanations, they finally made it on the plane and back to Japan. It was an experience Seto never wanted to go through again.

It hurt more than he realized to see Atemu act like that. He had always held an undying respect for the other duelist – his strength, his pride, his uncanny ability to win, and most of all, his emotional control in the face of danger or at the other end of a dueling ring. It was something he had only seen in one other person and that was himself.

But now…that version of Atemu was gone, and he was seriously wondering if it would ever be back. He guessed he would just have to have faith that everything would turn out all right in the end.

He snorted as he pulled the T-shirt over his head. Faith. Now that was something he had never believed in before. Mention that word to him and he would have laughed in your face for believing in such a ridiculous notion. But now, it seemed almost…important that he believe in it, if nothing more than for his sanity.

He _had_ to believe Atemu would get better.

And he was beginning to think he wasn't cut out to take care of Atemu for several reasons. For all his research of PTSD and any of the other problems his cousin had, nothing seemed to add up. The symptoms just didn't coincide with any of his research.

If the Items were still around, he might even believe they were the cause of this, because logically, nothing else made any sense. But Atemu had been human now for years and according to Isis and Malik, the golden trinkets were buried and gone along with any magic that could have caused any of this.

With a sigh, finished dressing and sat down on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the wall that separated his and his cousin's bedroom. How was he going to get through this….and he didn't mean Atemu. In the month since they had returned from the States, Seto had slept less – if that was even possible – stressed more and seemed to be in a constant state of worry. It was more taxing than he realized to look after a man that needed to be cared for like a child…a handicapped child as the legal papers labeled him…emotionally handicapped. He growled, hating that word they had stuck on the only person that could easily match him in the brains department.

But deep down he really couldn't dispute it for that was what Atemu was now…and maybe forever. And that scared him, tormented him and reminded him that he could have just as easily turned out the same way at the hands of his stepfather. In a way it also made him feel guilty. He turned out strong, broken in some ways, but still strong and _whole._ Atemu was looking more and more beyond repair.

Throwing his feet up onto the bed, he shifted his body till he felt comfortable, resting his head on the pillow, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes trained on the ceiling above him. The house was quiet; no wind hollowing outside and his ears rang from the lack of sound. His heart thumped in his chest, its rhythmic beating speeding up slightly even if there was no cause for it too. But Seto knew there was a reason, just as there was every single night for the past month when he finally decided to shut the world out and try to get some sleep.

Atemu never cried, never screamed out when the nightmares hit him, so if one didn't know what to listen for it would be missed until morning. The ex-spirit took his frightening dreams in silence, not even when he was submerged in the darkest parts of his mind did he seek assistance to help him battle the monsters of his memories – to _save_ him.

Seto scoffed. Why would he? Atemu went months –years- without asking for help from a living demon so why would he now that they were just recurring memories?

_Thump._

He stiffened, azure eyes darting over to the wall.

_Click._

Quickly and quietly, Seto pulled himself off of the bed, making his way over to his open door. Carefully, he peered outside into the hallway just in time to see Atemu round the corner. With a sigh Seto left his bedroom and followed the wandering man to where ever the other's destination was.

This too wasn't new to the CEO, more than once he had caught Atemu walking throughout his house as if he was looking for something hidden with in the vast mansion. But this time the crimson-eyed man wasn't walking with unsure footsteps, as he normally did, but rather with a purpose. Intrigued, he continued to follow, not once speaking to his charge to find out what was going on in his mind.

When they rounded the last corner, Seto stopped at the door way of the kitchen and lean casually against the frame as he observed the smaller man make his way over to the refrigerator, opening the door and began to pull an odd assortment of items out. Not seeing anything remotely dangerous in Atemu's actions, he decided to stand back and let whatever was going to happen, happen.

Atemu walked over to the butcher block in the center of the kitchen floor and laid his items on the edge then took his arm and swept it across the surface as if to wipe it clean. Seto raised an eyebrow, leaned forward slightly when Atemu opened a jar of blackberry jam and stuck two fingers inside it, scooping out some of the substance and dumped in on to the wood. Using the same digits, he began to spread it around, thinning the lumpy jelly till it was a thin layer. Scooping out more, he moved over slightly and began to 'paint' another jam blob onto the butcher block.

Curiosity pulling at him, Seto stepped closer to the other man, his blue eyes watching intently as Atemu grabbed the hand towel hanging on the side of the workstation and wiped his hand clean before grabbing a jar of mayonnaise and repeated the same process. Walking around the butcher block till he was standing on the other side of his cousin, Seto crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing as he began to make out blurry human-like figures made of food.

Two dark figures seemed to be facing each other and the lone white figure was 'laying' down next to one of the blackberry jam images. Squatting down so he could see Atemu's face, Seto opened his mouth, ready to ask what the meaning behind all of this was, only to close it when he noticed the dazed look to the crimson eyes that darted back and forth as he worked, grabbing for the ketchup next.

* * *

_Blacks._

_Evil? Love? Life? Me?_

_White._

_Pure. Clean. Love. Me but not me – a part of me. Lost._

_Must show._

_Failed – lost white. Failed him._

_Must show Blue._

_End of the equation. _

_Red. Lots of red. Sticky. Sick. Life. Love. Death. _

_Gone._

_Failed. _

_Lost. _

_Must show. Understand. Need. Alone. So alone. _

_Black. Gray. Red. Brown. White. Invisible. _

_Yellow. Blue. Not whole. _

_Alone…alone…alone…_

* * *

Seto jumped when Atemu suddenly screamed in rage, sweeping the various items off of their resting place, letting them crash to the tile floor, glass shattering sending their contents splattering against the white ceramic. Shocked and dazed at the sudden change in his cousin's demeanor that he failed to notice when Atemu grabbed a knife from its holder till the gleam from the raised weapon flashed before it was brought down onto the butcher block. Over and over again the large kitchen knife was raised and slammed back down, going further and further into the wood.

Frightened that his cousin would hurt himself, Seto darted around the object –not thinking about the broken glass - and grabbed the other's raised arm from behind, stopping it in mid decent. He called out Atemu's name, getting a little louder each time as the ex-spirit struggled against him till it seemed to work. The tanned hand – lighter than it used to be for lack of being exposed to the sun – released the knife, letting drop with a thud against the block, silver metal gleaming innocently against the brown, food stained surface.

"Atemu," he soothed, cradling the limp man against him as he ran a hand through the now dye-free tri-colored locks, knowing this one of the few things that tended to calm the other down. The smaller body shook against his own quivering body, the experience scaring him more than he cared to realize.

Seto didn't know how long they stood there in the kitchen, food contents and glass scattered on the floor around them, but he continued to speak in a hushed voice, whispering comforting, soothing words over and over again as they both slowly settled down.

"Blue."

Atemu's scratchy voice broke through the monotony of his words, stilling his hand in the still long locks of his cousin's hair. Carefully, he untangled his hand, pushing the smaller man back from his chest so he could look into the other man's eyes. "Yes?"

Crimson eyes darted up, quickly gazing into his own eyes before he turned his head, looking back at the butcher block. Slowly, Atemu lifted his hand, index finger pointing to the two blackberry jam figures. "Black," he said before shifting his finger to point at the one made of mayonnaise. "White."

Not letting go of Atemu, afraid that if the other man moved he would step on the glass, Seto eyed the food drawings when something clicked. "Black and white. Yami and hikari?" Atemu nodded. "You, Marik and Yugi." Another nod. "Marik killed Yugi didn't he? And then you killed him."

Atemu didn't answer, but he didn't have to. Seto knew the answer as he pulled the smaller man back against him, kissing him lightly on the forehead, even as he closed his eyes not wanting to look at the crude drawing anymore now that he understood what the other had been wanting to tell him.

That Atemu had killed Marik after he had killed Yugi was nothing new to him. That information had been passed along by Mokuba when he had found out about it himself but to hear it, so to speak, from Atemu himself was both heartbreaking and joyful at the same moment for this was the first time that he had attempted to talk about what happened that day that changed Atemu forever. For Seto knew that the death of Yugi hurt Atemu more than anything Marik physically did.

Another kiss to the forehead, Seto released Atemu and gently picked him up in his arms – something he had only recently been able to do without him mentally withdrawing – and carefully made his way out of the kitchen. "Lets get you back to bed. I'll clean this up in the morning."

Nothing else was said as they made there way back to the bed room or as Seto laid Atemu on his bed, checking his feet to make sure that he hadn't been injured on the broken glass before he covered the seemingly lifeless figure up with a blanket. "Get some sleep Atemu," he whispered as he ran his fingers through golden bangs, watching the other's dull eyes for any hopefully change. Shaking his head at the lack of response, Seto pulled his hand away and turned to walk out of the room when he heard something that stopped him in his tracks.

"Seto-blue, black minus white. Failed."


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Colors of the Soul  
Author: Crimson Eyed Dragon  
Pairing: Mentions of Marik/Yami  
Rating: R  
Warnings: Language, mentions of rape  
Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh  
Summary: It's been three years since anyone has seen Yami and when the Kaibas' find him, even Seto's best efforts to heal this broken spirit may not be enough.  
Status: 5/6

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"I'm telling you Mokuba, he said 'Seto-blue, black minus white. Failed.'"

"_And this was after the whole kitchen thing?"_

Seto nodded his head as he paced around his bedroom, running his free hand through his hair, unknowingly mimicking his brother's own movements. "Yes. I couldn't believe it when I heard it. I asked him to repeat it just to make sure, but of course he didn't. Just rolled over and stared at the wall like he normally does."

"_Well it sounds like a small step in the right direction, calling you by your name and all, even if he still added the color blue with it. And then there's the fact that he actually told you something else – failed. Sounds like he thinks he failed Yugi. Which of course he didn't."_

With a sigh, Seto stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of his bed, his eyes darting to the door to make sure Atemu hadn't wondered into his room. "No, but I could see how he would think that." He snorted. "Hell, I've failed you enough to know."

"_Don't start that bullshit with me Nii-sama. We've been through that enough. But for the record, let me repeat myself. You. Have. Not. Failed. Me. Got that? Or do I need to send you a virus so it repeatedly shows up on your computer as a form of 'daily inspiration'?"_

"Just try that you little snot," he growled out even as his younger brother laughed at him.

"_So," _Mokuba began once he had calmed down_. "What are you going to do now? And what's with the whole 'minus' bit?"_

"I believe, that it means Yugi's not with him anymore. We know, especially after last night, that white is hikari and black is yami. So substitute those words for Yugi and Yami and you get Yugi minus Yami. And about the other part," Seto pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure. I mean nothing I've tried has seemed to work and it took a month of being here just for him to progress enough to 'paint' out something we pretty much already knew." He sighed, eyes drifting back towards the door.

"_And how are you holding up?"_

Seto blinked, frowning at the phone. "I'm fine."

"_Ah, more bullshit I see. Seriously Nii-sama, this has to be affecting you whether you choose to admit that or not. And I worry about you."_

He snorted, walked across his room, pulling out his chair and sitting it. Leaning over, he placed his elbows on the dark cherry wood of his desk. "Don't worry about me, worry about him." He flinched slightly at the sigh he heard on the other end. Why did his brother have to know him _that_ well? "Fine, you want to know the truth? It's eating me alive. Every single night we go through the same thing. He wakes up from some nightmare and either he wanders the house the rest of the night like he's looking for something, or he goes and sits by the window and stares out into space.

"The sitting at the window doesn't bother me, he can't do much damage there, but when he wanders around, there's no telling what he can get into. So, not only do I not sleep anymore, my state of worry has rose to the breaking point. He's not who he used to be and there's not a damn thing I can do about it!" The last part came out more as a frustrated scream as he stood up, his free hand tangling in his hair, pulling at it while he tried to calm down his breathing.

He had been trying so hard to maintain his usual confident self, the emotionless attitude that had always gotten him by in life, but now… now it was proving very difficult. Atemu, in this last month, had taken up a good portion of his life and nerves. And as much as he knew it was not the other's fault, that still didn't make it any easier on him.

But he would be damned if that stopped him from continuing to do whatever he could for Atemu, even if that meant he never slept again for the rest of his life, or never stepped another foot into his building to conduct a business meeting, or he, for that matter, ever stepped outside his own house.

"_Nii-sama…"_

No, this was yet just another challenge…one that he didn't take lightly. He _would_ get Atemu back to normal, even if it cost him his own life in the process. He growled in frustration. Too bad he had absolutely no idea how to do that.

"_Nii-sama?"_

Clearing his throat, he glanced at the digital clock sitting on the corner of his desk, noting the time was a little before lunch. "Would you like to speak to him? He's been asking for you."

"_Actually I can't right now. I'm late for class as it is, but I'll make sure to call back tonight and talk to him then. So, will you tell him that for me?"_

"Yeah, I'll tell him."

Seto nodded his head at the whispered 'thanks', ending the call soon afterwards. Placing the phone back on the hook, he closed his eyes and exhaled a deep breath, calming himself down before he went to get Atemu and make some lunch for them both.

Last night he had come to the conclusion, after failed attempts to sleep yet again, that he was going to have to sit Atemu down and almost force him to 'talk' to him about what happened. It had been easy to see last night that his cousin, at that moment, felt the need to tell him something, but with his limitations, Atemu couldn't get much out more than a 'failed' and the better understanding of what 'black and white' meant. Which had been so obviously _simple_, it was a wonder he didn't pick up on it before.

Black and white – yami and hikari – dark and light.

And yet, even his brilliant mind didn't pick up on it until a stupid food drawing on his butcher block and his few simple words all but spelled it out for him. And even though it was never said, he could also figure out the 'red' part Atemu was so fond of saying when he was distressed over something.

He could still see the white figure smeared with ketchup…_blood._

He shuddered, suddenly, feeling coldness creeping upon his skin, causing him to rub his bare arms to ward it off. His mind supplied the images…of Yugi, dead, lifeless, drenched in his own blood…red blood and it suddenly switched to a raven-haired little boy looking back at him with dull, slate-gray eyes. His own eyes closed, fighting off the terrible nightmare that invaded his mind.

Grinding his teeth, he forced his eyes open, holding his gaze straightforward, trying desperately to shift his mind from one thing to another, banishing the gut-wrenching image of his brother. Gods, that was something he _never_ wanted to see…real or otherwise.

And yet, Atemu had. He had witnessed it, with his own eyes. He lived with the fact that he couldn't protect the one thing…one person that was like a little brother to him. What had Atemu done when he looked upon that blank stare? Had he tortured himself and drown in guilt till his mind snapped and became nothing more than a color-filled shell?

Was that how Atemu handled it?

Was that how _he _would have handled it?

He banished that thought quickly as he turned on his heels and started walking out of his room towards the closed door of his cousin's bedroom. He didn't want to think about that, cause he didn't want to think of the reason for it in the first place. His brother was safe and would be safe… and that's all that he needed to know.

Seto raised his hand, knocking on the door lightly. "Atemu?" he called through the thin wood. "Its lunch time."

The door opened slowly, revealing a lightly tanned face and eyes that were as dull as ever. His long black hair was still slightly wet, evidence of having recently been washed, and tucked back behind his ears along with the golden bangs that were back to all their glory now that the hideous dye had grown out. Atemu still wore his usually garments of dark colored long sleeved shirts and jogging pants but…on his feet were bright blue socks with little images of a baby-like Blue Eyes White Dragons. Something he recognized instantly.

Atemu was wearing his brother's socks.

He should have been mad, he should have demanded to know what this person was doing in Mokuba's old room, but… this was Atemu and at the moment it was _amusing_ and _odd._ He lifted an eyebrow, his finger pointing at his cousin's feet, a small smile pulling at his lips. "Never thought I would see my greatest rival wearing _my_ Dragons on his feet."

Blue eyes watched intently, studying, looking for any evidence of some emotion and to his surprise he got a response. Crimson eyes looked down, toes wiggling oddly in the blue socks before they looked up. Atemu's arms crossed, his hips cocked just slightly, enough to remind Seto of the way his rival used to stand on a dueling platform, his body clearly stating he was annoyed by Seto's teasing, even if his face never changed from its emotionless stare.

And Seto was thrilled more than he realized.

Two breakthroughs in two days, a month's worth of work all for his name and a body response to his teasing. Mokuba would have 'whooped' with joy but Seto just reached out and ruffed the shorter man's hair playfully, letting a small smile grace his face.

"Come one Socks, lets go eat."

And as he turned to walk away, he could have sworn he heard a mild huff of annoyance.

* * *

"Atemu, eat."

Seto narrowed his eyes, mentally growling as he watched his cousin continuously push his salad around on the plate, his eyes distant, his hand seemingly working on his own accord. They had been sitting at the table for over thirty minutes now, Seto having finished his own meal a while back and Atemu's plate was still full, just scattered across the fine china.

Crimson eyes blinked, coming out of his self-made trance, his hand stopping in mid stroke. They flicked in Seto's direction, then down to the meal. He shook his head, his hand placing the fork on the table, while his other hand rose from his lap and pushed the plate towards the taller man. "White."

"White?" he asked, curious. "What's white got to do with this?"

Atemu pointed to the salad, "White…no."

"I don't understand."

Dull eyes closed, his head bowed slightly, blonde bangs shadowing his face. "White…not…" Seto leaned forward, watching, listening and waiting, "..black….not white."

"White? Yugi?" Atemu nodded his head, his right hand curling into a fist. "Black is you…so not white would be…not you?"

His hand curled tighter, his the skin on his knuckles turning pale as they were stretch across the bones. "Black minus white, black not white…," His jaw snapped closed, teeth grinding against one another. "Seto-blue plus white-yellow, black minus white….black plus yellow…no…black minus yellow…."

Dark eyebrows furrowed, Seto's mind racing to put the meanings behind the simplistic words, "I don't understand Atemu. Me plus white-yellow? There is no such color. Mokuba is yellow, right? Yugi is white…you are black. You aren't making any sense. And how are you 'minus yellow'?"

Atemu rose from his chair, the wooden legs making an eerie noise against the hard tiled floor. He smacked the palms of his hands against the table, hard enough that Seto was sure that they stung but from the way his charge's head still hung low, he wasn't able to see a reaction. "Dark Purple!" he growled out, turning his head to the side, his breathing now coming in hard pants. "Seto-blue plus white-yellow, black minus white, minus yellow. Seto-blue plus black….not invisible… not right. Seto-blue need white-yellow, black _needs_….."

The phone rang, the shrill ringing interrupting the rest of Atemu's words, causing Seto to scowl, throwing a glare in the phone's direction when Atemu pushed further away from the table, silently walking out of the room. Seto was frustrated not only because what he heard didn't make any sense, but also because he _knew_ his cousin was about to say something important but now… he was closed off again, the answer forever lost.

With a sigh, he threw those thoughts aside and answered the phone, a frown forming on his features as he listened to what one of his employees were telling him. A problem…a major problem concerning multiple servers…one that would _require_ him to go to Kaiba Corp. Hanging up the phone, he went in search of his cousin, finding him sitting on the small seat beneath the big bay window in the living room, staring out into the world.

He looked so small sitting there, with his knees curled up to his chest, chin resting on them as he looked out the glass without blinking. It made him look more like a child – like his brother used to look – than a three thousand plus _human_. He looked weak and helpless, and _lost. _If Atemu still had the black dye in his hair and gray eyes instead of crimson….

Seto shook his head, willing those images out of it yet again. He had other things to deal with…like how Atemu was going to deal with being alone. The CEO had considered taking his cousin with him, but that would mean he would either have to be left alone in his office or he would have to stay with him, in a room with many other people around since the technicians would also have to be there to help solve the current problem that had arose. And since he knew that Atemu didn't deal well with strangers and the fact that he himself didn't want to deal with other people staring at the broken doll, that option was out. His office wasn't a better choice either since he would have to be left alone in a room full of glass, sharp objects, and there was that lingering feeling that Atemu might not understand what was going on, he might not know where he was at and once again feel like he was abandoned.

_Abandoned_

Blue eyes widened. Had that been what Atemu had been trying to tell him? He knew that the smaller male called his brother Yellow, he also understood what minus meant in Atemu's 'language', and black was what he called himself….

_Black plus yellow, black minus yellow_

So, Atemu felt abandoned by the one person that had found him after all these years, the one person that had shown up out of the blue that he knew, the one person that actually made an _effort_ to understand what he was saying and talked to him like he was just as normal as he was all those years ago.

He frowned, one hand coming up to his hair, running through it as he leaned against the wall. Mokuba had found him, had befriended him again only to, days later, 'shove' him off on to his older brother and then carted off back to Japan without the younger Kaiba. Sure Mokuba still called, they still talked on the phone, but… to Atemu's fragile state of mind, that must seem like abandonment, like he was too much of a burden for the other to handle.

For three years no one, not the gang, not Yugi's grandfather had bothered to look for him, no one had found him and when one person finally did…they left him. It was possible that his cousin thought that, with the way he was, that no one would want him, to deal with him, to be near him. After all, if Atemu remembered something of how he used to be, then he would feel….ashamed, confused, and blame himself for others not being there…or wanting him.

And if Atemu didn't already think it, he was going to begin to wonder when Seto was going to leave him too.

He sighed again; his shoulders sagging just a bit when he realized his thoughts had made the tough decision for him. Cautiously, as not to startle the other male, he walked over, his eyes trained on the still body looking for any outward signs of turmoil.

"Atemu." Slowly, the one being called turned his head, blonde bangs swaying with the motion. "The office called…seems there's a problem that they can't fix but I can…" Seto trailed off, frown forming on his face, wondering how he was going to say this without it seeming like he was leaving Atemu for good. Truth was the preferred option, but was it the correct one?

"You're going to have to stay here by yourself," Crimson eyes widened just a fraction and if Seto hadn't been looking for it, he would have never noticed it. "I'll be back I promise, as soon as everything is ok at Kaiba Corp. I would take you with me, but there will be lots of other people there and I don't think you want to be around them."

The sitting male gave a curt nod of his head before he turned back to look out the window. "Black minus Seto-blue."

Seto shook his head fiercely, walking quickly over to his cousin, kneeling down so he was eye level with the other. "No, never. This is my home remember? Your home, our home. I'll be back…just give me a few hours to fix things and I promise I'm coming home…to you."

Atemu gave no reply causing Seto to sigh. There wasn't much he could do to make him understand that he wasn't leaving him permanently other than to just go and come back like he had promised. Simple talk was not going to cut it with someone in Atemu's state of mind. In his case, the phrase _'actions speak louder than words'_ were what he lived by.

"I need you to be good for me. Don't go wandering around the mansion." He cast his eyes around the living room, doing a once over, making sure that there wasn't anything there that Atemu could get hurt on. But it was still 'child proof' as that was one of the first things he had done when they had arrived back from the United States. "Can you do that for me?"

Another curt nod of his head was all the answer he got, "Good, now Mokuba is going to call you later so if the phone rings, it will either be me or him so make sure you answer it, ok? And if you are unsure, just let the answer machine get it and when you hear our voices then pick up. Understand?"

With one last nod, Seto stood up, giving Atemu a quick kiss on the top of his head and walked out of the room, ready to get going and get back. He never noticed wide crimson eyes following him.

* * *

**Dark Purple: **Frustration – in this case, I used it as "Damn it"

**White-yellow: **Yes, I know, that color doesn't exist. But it does have a meaning, I'm just not going to explain it now. In the mean time, can you figure it out?

**Dragon:** Ok, before I get tons of questions about what Atemu was trying to tell Seto, just know this….everything he said is important but only one thing got explained in this chapter. The rest will not until the next story. Feel free to make guesses, but I'm not giving anything away until I'm ready.


End file.
